


Letter Me This

by alpha_exodus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Kid Fic, M/M, Rimming, Valentine's Day, mentions of other pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4221558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpha_exodus/pseuds/alpha_exodus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because some things are easier to write than say aloud. Draco wants a promotion, Albus wants a girlfriend, and Lily just wants to be accepted. Harry has his own problems, but they're not quite as serious as they seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letter Me This

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually written a few months ago (if you can't tell from the Valentine's day theme!) for ourloveislegendrarry's tumblr minifest Dralentine's Day, and it ended up being gifted to darklordpotter. <3
> 
> It's one of the first fics I ever finished, Drarry-wise, and it was written in approximately 3 and 1/2 days. Thanks to calypso-mary for looking it over for me, even though it was a while ago!

I

_Wednesday, January 31 st, 2024_

Hey, Dad!

Thanks for the chocolate frogs, and yes, I’ll share with Lily and Scorp, I promise. They both say hi, by the way.

Have you heard from James? He just wrote me, and he says that Auror training has been excellent so far. I’m a little jealous ‘cuz he looks like he’s having loads of fun. But, I think I’ve decided that Aurorhood is probably not for me. I know Father might be a bit sad that I’m not taking after him—hopefully he’ll understand.

Classes are fine, studying for the NEWTs is bloody awful though. Aren’t you glad you never had to take them? Aunt Hermione has been sending me and Rose and Scorp loads of useful stuff, and we’ve been having a lot of late night cram sessions lately (but don’t tell Father! He hates when we stay up too late!)

Everyone’s really excited for the Valentine’s Day Ball. I’m thinking about asking Elodie Rogers, and I’m really hoping she’ll say yes—I’ll let you know what happens! Scorp is going with Helen, of course, they’re still as lovey-dovey as always, but they’ve played it down a bit after Rose went off on them last week for making out when we were trying to study. Hugo asked Lils, but I have a feeling that she’s gonna say no since she’s been putting off answering—I wonder why?

Anyway, I’ve gotta go, it’s time for History of Magic, ugh. I love all of my other classes, but I can never pay attention to Binns!

Talk to you later, Dad!

Love, Albus

-X-

Harry grinned, tossing Al’s letter down on the table next to that morning’s Prophet and scooping up the breakfast dishes so he could do the washing up. He started a mental reply in his head so that he could pen it later: he and Draco had known that Al wasn’t suited for Aurorhood within weeks of Al starting at Hogwarts—he wasn’t a risk taker, and his thirst for knowledge led him naturally toward much more academic pursuits. Also, he suspected that Al had fancied Elodie since at least fifth year, so he was pleased that he was finally getting the nerve to ask her out—he had feared that neither of them would make a move before they left Hogwarts.

Not for the first time, he felt thankful that at least one of his children loved writing letters and thus did so often. Al sent one at least twice a week, to both dads as well as his mum. It made him feel much closer to all of them, since the others generally only sent letters once a month.

He flicked his wand, setting the scrub brush to its task. Hearing socked feet thumping down the stairs in a hurry, he set his wand on the counter and stuck his head out into the hallway as his husband rounded the corner.

“Late again?” he asked, chuckling a bit. Draco looked extremely harried, Auror robes on but unfastened and a scowl on his face.

“Of course I am, and I’ll have you know that it’s your fault, git. Have you seen my boots?” Draco asked, already searching around the kitchen floor.

“I think they were in the living room when I went to bed last night,” Harry offered, inwardly smirking. Instead of following their usual routine when Draco’s alarm had rung that morning, Harry had shut it off before Draco had the chance to wake up. He then proceeded to wake him up in _other_ ways (that may or may not have ended with his hand on Draco’s cock and his fingers in his arse). Draco had intended on reciprocating, but when he glanced at the clock on the wall and realized what time it was, he had freaked out and jumped out of bed, leaving Harry rock-hard and wanting. Harry had been a bit put-off, but Draco had always hated being late—he would just have to set the alarm for earlier next time he wanted sex in the morning...

“Of course they’re in the one room I don’t check… Have I told you that your house is too bloody huge?” Draco muttered exasperatedly.

“ _Our_ house is the perfect size when the kids are home,” Harry retorted.

“Of _course_ it is…” came the sarcastic mumble from his husband. Harry sighed pointedly, feeling the temper that had been not-quite quelled with age start to rise. Draco rushed out of the room, but stopped and backtracked from the bottom of the stairs, coming back to embrace Harry and give him a quick kiss.

“Sorry, love. I’m just keyed up because promotions are due at work and I think this time, we really have a chance at being assigned to the big cases. I can’t mess this up,” Draco murmured into his hair. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you later,” he added, stepping back and winking as he went for a not-so-subtle crotch grab. Harry flushed (even after all of these years, Draco still made him dizzy sometimes) and watched Draco leave the room, Auror robes swirling around him.

He sighed again, picking up his wand and spelling the dishes dry and into the cupboard. He couldn’t remember the last time they had actually had sex. This morning had been an attempt to remedy that, but it had only seemed to make Draco annoyed after his initial enjoyment was spoiled. Harry wanted him, yes, but beyond that, he was starting to feel like maybe something was wrong. Sure, Draco was busy, but he had never been this busy for such a long period of time. Was something happening to their relationship?

Harry shook his head, trying his best to dispel any negative thoughts. They had been married for this long, after all. Maybe they were just having a rough patch. Merlin knew they rowed, but he had never felt a disconnection like he felt now. Sex wasn’t everything, of course, but he was starting to feel like Draco was avoiding it.

Making sure the table was clean, he walked out of the kitchen and went to get ready for work.

II

_Thursday, February 1st, 2024_

Harry,

How are you? I know I haven’t written in a while—busy with managing the team as always. I really think we’re ready to make the finals this year! None of my players have any serious flaws, and they’re working absolutely seamlessly as a team!

Have you heard much from the kids? I get letters from Albus, obviously, but I haven’t gotten one from Lils or James since last month. Remind them to owl me if you can (though really I should be telling Albus to do that!)

On to the real reason I’m writing—I heard rumors that you guys are working on the prototype for a super secret new release, and don’t try to deny it—my sources are reliable. Any chance you can get me some info—release date, specs, price, etc? I’m sure that it’ll be on sale before the semis, but I’d like to get my hands on some as soon as possible so that the team can start training with them.

I’ll probably be in England mid-month, so we should make plans with the gang! I’ve already owled Neville, Pansy, George, and Luna (who said that she and Rolf would be happy to host), but you’ll see Ron and Hermione tonight, so let them know? Blaise and Draco as well, of course.

With much platonic love,

Ginny

-X-

Shaking his head and smiling, Harry set the letter down on top of Albus’ from yesterday. He flipped over an old grocery list and wrote himself a note to “Tell Ron and Hermione about the get-together at pub night tomorrow”. He eyed the letter again. Ginny always found out about the new products somehow (though he had his suspicions on where she was getting the information from). And “with much platonic love” was such a Ginny thing to say, as well. He was quite pleased at her imminent visit, as he had missed her, as well as Luna and some of the others that he didn’t see as often as he should.

Their period of awkward feelings toward each other that had persisted during the divorce had long since passed. Their marriage had been fine, but Ginny had always been off on long trips, playing for the Harpies. Almost two years after Lily was born, they had both decided that it would be better for them to part ways than to struggle with a marriage in which they never saw each other.

Custody had not been an issue, as Harry had been a stay-at-home dad beforehand and didn’t see a reason to stop. Since there hadn’t been much shouting or arguing involved in the whole affair, the kids had been mostly fine with it, and it had only taken about a year for him and Ginny to resume their previous friendship. It had taken a little longer than that for Molly to realize that it wasn’t just “a phase in their relationship”, but she never harbored bad feelings toward him. When he finally told the Weasleys that he was gay and probably fancied Draco, Molly had latched onto that with gusto—it gave her an excuse to believe that nothing had been wrong with his and Ginny’s marriage. It wasn’t true, but it had the side effect of causing her to finally stop trying to nudge he and Ginny back together, thank goodness. And then he and Draco had started getting serious, and the rest was history.

Draco. He sighed. Draco had come home late last night, and though Harry was not normally one for suspicion, Draco had been nearly unresponsive when Harry had asked how his day had been. Normally he was rather talkative after work. Harry wasn’t sure what to think, and the thoughts that had been niggling themselves in his brain the day before again made themselves apparent. Bloody hell, maybe he just needed a drink. Pub night couldn’t come fast enough.

III

_Friday, February 2 nd, 2024_

Dad,

How’s it going? Albus said I should owl you and mum and Father and tell you all about Auror training. I don’t feel like writing three separate letters, so just give this to Father when you’re done reading it.

Auror training is pretty bloody awesome, if I do say so myself. We’re sectioned off into different groups each week to work on different subjects—defense, spell knowledge, basic curse breaking, and a bunch of others that I can’t think of right now. I’m working with Ivan Wheeler from school this week, he’s the kid who tripped on the staircase in fifth year and accidentally spilled laughing potion on me, remember? He’s all right now though. There’s a girl in our group too, she’s from Beaubaxtons and I don’t know her very well. She’s nice though, and yes, she’s pretty, but I don’t think she cares about anything other than getting high marks during training for now. Maybe later I’ll ask her to the pub or something after we’re done.

We get our partner assignments in a month, so I’ll let you know then how it goes. Don’t worry, I haven’t been pulling pranks on anyone—I’m really serious about being an Auror, you know. I’m on my best behavior. It feels pretty cool to be following in Father’s footsteps.

I’ll see you when I’m done with the stay-away portion.

Love, James

-X-

Harry practically leapt out of the shop after work, hurrying to the Leaky just in time to beat Hermione there. Ron and Draco came in as he was hugging Hermione hello, bickering good-naturedly as usual.

“I swear, Weasley, you couldn’t even read the suspect’s name on that report, much less what the crime and procedure were!”

“My handwriting is just as good as yours is. Besides, his surname was Theuerkauf, and I don’t think either of us can say it correctly, let alone spell it!”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a single glance before bursting out with laughter. Sure, Ron and Draco’s Auror partnership had been explosive at the very beginning, but they had very quickly come to work together in a surprising but compatible relationship. Draco’s wit and Ron’s excellence in strategy had made them almost unstoppable case solvers.

Harry would never tell either of them this, but he suspected that a good amount of politics had influenced the decision to pair them together. With any other partner, Ron would have been lauded, possibly unfairly, as one of the Golden Trio. Draco, with his Mark, would have been delegated to bottom-tier work for his entire career, doomed to be spat on by people of higher rank than he. By pairing them together, they started out on the same level as all of the other entry-level Aurors in their class. And it had worked—those both in the office and in Ron’s life had gradually accepted and forgiven Draco for his past.

However, despite the general acceptance that had abounded, the two had not been able to make it very far up the promotion ladder in all of the years that they had been working there, and Harry feared that office politics were yet again the culprit. Sure, Draco was now long-time husband of the “Savior”, but the prejudices of some people simply never changed.

“I’ll take the first round,” Hermione offered, nudging Harry to let her out of the booth. Harry stood, allowing Hermione to get past him as she headed toward Hannah, smiling at the counter as always. Ron elected to go to the bathroom, leaving Harry and Draco alone for a minute. Draco rolled his eyes at Ron’s retreating figure before sitting down in the spot that Hermione had vacated. A slow grin spread across his face as he eyed Harry, who was still slightly disheveled from rushing to the pub.

“Sorry I got back so late last night,” he said, squeezing Harry’s hand. Their wedding bands clinked together slightly, making Harry feel warm. “I could tell we were going to go overtime, and Ron had been planning on going to dinner with Hermione, so I told him that he could go ahead and leave. The report took longer than I thought it would, was all,” Draco shrugged. “I was really tired when I got back, and I could tell you were annoyed, so I didn’t really want to talk because I thought we’d have a row.”

Harry felt relieved. Draco had noticed, and apologized. The man knew him almost better than he knew himself. It was a common theme throughout their relationship that Harry would be cross and Draco would reassure him without Harry even having to mention that he was upset.

“Thanks for explaining,” he smiled softly, glancing down at their threaded fingers.

Draco kissed him on the forehead, then started snickering. “I spy a few grey hairs, there,” he smirked. Harry shoved him with his shoulder.

“Be quiet, you. I know for a fact that you spell yours blonde again whenever that happens,” Harry raised his eyebrows.

“I do nothing of the sort!” Draco exclaimed in mock offense. Harry grinned, looking at him, rememorizing the face that he knew so well. Draco winked in response, making his cock twitch.

“Erm… Can we have sex tonight?” Harry blurted out without thinking, then flushed brightly. Draco made a sound that was almost a snort.

“What, you want me, Potter?” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“I, erm, yes?” Harry stammered, becoming seriously impaired by the sudden and severe attraction he was feeling toward Draco. Merlin, he hadn’t felt like this in years…

“You don’t even have to ask,” Draco lowered his voice into a seductive tone, and he was positively smoldering—and of course he was doing it on purpose, right when Hermione and Ron returned to the table.

Except—“Draco, mate, we’ve gotta go, urgent break in the illegal potions ring case and no one’s in the office. I think it’s gonna end up being a stakeout, so I grabbed some food from Hannah. Sorry, Harry, ‘Mione.” Ron spoke very quickly, kissing Hermione on the cheek and grabbing his Auror robes from where he had discarded them on the chair. Harry stood and hugged Ron and Draco quickly, but the two already seemed miles away in thought.

“Be safe,” was all that he had the chance to murmur before the pair was off again.

Hermione sighed. “I was looking forward to some down time this weekend, you know?”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

IV

_Monday, February 5 th, 2024_

Hey Dad!

Writing a quick letter ‘cuz I said I’d tell you how it went—asking Elodie, I mean—and she said yes! I asked her last night, and she didn’t even have to think about it before she answered. I’m hoping that means she actually likes me, and it’s not just because she needed a date or something. I mean, not that I’m overthinking it or anything.

I looked at my dress robes today, and I think something’s been eating them, because there are these weird holes in them and _Reparo_ ’s not working. Could you send me the ones I left at home?

I found out who Rose is going with, by the way—it’s Abe Duncan, the Head Boy. I mean, no one’s really surprised because she’s Head Girl, but apparently they’ve been in a relationship and they just don’t want to tell everyone yet. I don’t really get it—I wanted to tell everybody when Elodie said she’d go with me.

Potions with Scorp and Rose today, then I have a bunch of “free” periods, which actually means periods where I catch up with the homework I didn’t have time to do over the weekend. NEWTs! What fun!

Love, Albus

-X-

Smirking at the sarcasm in the last line that was most certainly a result of Draco’s influence, Harry trekked upstairs to get ready for work. He sobered slightly as he dressed, quietly eyeing Draco’s sleeping form.

They hadn’t ended up having sex or even making out that weekend, because Draco hadn’t come home. Harry had lazed around for a few days, not truly leaving the house except for Sunday brunch at the Burrow. Draco had been at the stakeout and doing subsequent paperwork until four in the morning on Monday. The culprits had been caught, of course, but at the cost of Draco immediately collapsing on the bed from lack of sleep as soon as he got home. Harry had blearily taken his husband’s boots and outer of layer of clothing off, tucking him in and going back to sleep himself.

Perching on a chair to put his socks on, Harry contemplated scribbling a note for Draco, but decided against it—with the amount of exhaustion he was apt to be feeling, he might be asleep until Harry was already home again.

He glanced in the mirror, halfheartedly swiping at his untamable hair before clumping out the door of Grimmauld Place. Briefly focusing on his three D’s, he Apparated, landing in a side street off of Diagon Alley in front of a brick building labelled “STUFF”. He then pulled his wand out, inserting it into the lock until he heard the clink of his magical signature being recognized.

Few people knew that this boring, drab building was in fact the headquarters for the production of the Foxwind, one of the top-tier racing brooms of the decade. “Synthesis, Testing, and Upbringing of the Flying Foxwind” experimented with all the latest broom spells and wood potions to create the best brooms possible. Harry took great pride in his work—he was the head of the design team, and he could lose himself for hours working with a new type of wood or a different streamlining spell. However, the business would never have reached the heights it had without the entrepreneurship of none other than Blaise Zabini.

It had been an unlikely coincidence: Harry had been discussing his future with Draco, Ron, and Hermione at the Leaky, right after Albus had left for his first year. Lily may have been a handful as a child, but she was nowhere near enough of a handful to keep him busy at all times of the day. He cooked, cleaned, and did laundry, and yet there were still hours left each day until Draco was to come home.

He had mentioned it as a joke—there had been a large recall on the new Shooting Star recently because of a faulty braking charm, and he had jested that even he could do better than that. He hadn’t known nearly anything about broom charms at the time, of course, but Blaise had been at a nearby table and had overheard.

Somehow the situation had escalated: no one seemed to listen when Harry protested that he didn’t _actually_ know anything, because “I’ve been looking to start a profitable business…” (Blaise) and “Isn’t that just perfect!” (Hermione) and “Merlin knows you need _something_ to keep you occupied” (Draco) and “Does that mean I get free brooms?” (Ron). Plotting had ensued, with or without Harry’s consent, and within weeks the plans were set and the down payment on the building was paid. He figured he might as well go with it, and so, with help from Lily when she wasn’t in primary school, he began to research broom making.

He ended up loving it, and now there was no job he would rather have—he got to fly brooms regularly, and only a select few knew that he was the man behind it all because Blaise took care of any and all business they garnered.

As he opened the Floo for Blaise to come in (he hated Apparation, apparently), Harry surveyed the messy but loveable workshop. One corner was Blaise’s, with a neat and shiny desk. The rest was all Harry’s. The rest of their production team was housed elsewhere—they were the ones responsible for mass broom creation once the prototype was set. This was where the real magic took place.

Brushing some of the wood curls off of his main work table, he dispelled the wards on the broom floating slightly above the surface. The Foxwind Hurricane was his newest masterpiece, the one that Ginny had found out about early, and it was nearly done.

The Floo flared up behind him, and the tall, handsome figure that was Blaise strolled in elegantly (and how he got out of the Floo elegantly, Harry would never know).

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Blaise grinned easily. “May I?” He held out a hand. Harry carefully transferred the broom to him, and then they were off talking about broom specs and the final modifications and “who told Ginny?”

When he got out of the shop that evening, he pronounced the broom complete, and he was so elated about his new success that he didn’t even mind when Draco wasn’t in the mood for much more than watching the Wizard telly before bed.

V

_Wednesday, February 7 th, 2024_

Hey Dad (and Father),

I know I just owled you the other day, but this is urgent. Lily just came to me and she’s freaking out because she said no to Hugo and she thinks she might like girls and for some reason she’s worried that you and Father and mum will be disappointed in her or ~~some shite~~ something like that. She wanted me to tell you cuz she’s scared, which is bloody stupid. So can you guys owl her and tell her to calm down and that she’s crazy for thinking you all would be disappointed because of that?

Love Al

-X-

Lily-billy,

I just got the letter from Al. Don’t ever think that we would be disappointed in you for being who you are. You’re a strong, beautiful girl, and if you think we would ever judge you for liking other strong, beautiful girls, then you might need Madam Pomfrey to check your head, because you must have bumped it somewhere on the way. I’m looking forward to meeting some nice girlfriends in the future, and I’m sure that your Mum and Father feel the same way. This can be tough, believe me, I know, but you’ll get through it. And don’t worry about acceptance from everyone. Some people may not like it, but I swear to you that the people that matter the most will not care one bit about who you want to kiss.

Don’t worry about Hugo—he’ll be all right, but you should probably explain why you turned him down for the Ball.

Love you very very much, Dad

-X-

Lils,

Sweetie, you do realize you have two gay dads, right? Just saying. Also, Ditto what Harry said.

Love, Father

-X-

Lily Luna,

What do you mean, you’re worried we wouldn’t understand? That’s the last thing you should be worried about, hun. I’m glad you finally decided to tell us, though. Yes, I knew—I saw the signs quite a while ago. I was married to a gay man for years, remember? Besides, mums know everything.

Be proud of who you are, sweetie, and if people try to make fun of you for it, then don’t listen to a word they say. (And then remind them that your mum is Ginny Weasley, and that I WILL kick their arses if they hurt my baby girl.)

I’ll come visit you soon.

Love, Mum

-X-

Daddies,

I’m so sorry, I was just really stressed out about maybe being mean to Hugo.  Normally I don’t care that much about turning guys down, but you know he’s my best friend and everything, and I was just worried that this would ruin it all. We talked, and he’s all right—he said he actually knew that I probably liked girls, and he just wanted to go as friends because he couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. I think he’s a little disappointed, but he’s trying to be strong for me (as strong as a ‘Puff can be, anyway). I asked him if he still wanted to go just as friends, but he said that he thinks I should try asking another girl. I doubt that’ll happen, but it’s nice to feel like that option is open.

Thanks for loving me like you do. Also, can I get new dress robes for the Ball?

Love, Lily Luna

-X-

“You raised my daughter to be such a Slytherin,” Harry jested, elbowing Draco to budge up so he could sit next to him on the loveseat.

“Says the man who was almost Sorted Slytherin himself. Anyway, she has some of you and Ginny’s Gryffindor in her too, else she wouldn’t have persisted in calling me ‘Daddy’ for the entirety of her life,” Draco twitched his nose in annoyance.

Harry snorted, and Draco stretched before leaning up against him, head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry slid his hand through Draco’s hair absent-mindedly. “We all raised an interesting bunch, didn’t we?”

“I’d say so,” Draco agreed.

Since James was the oldest, he had the most of Ginny’s direct influence, and so it was no surprise when the Sorting Hat declared him a Gryffindor almost immediately. Al had always had a love for books (his favorite non-parent relative was his Aunt Hermione, after all) and thus had been a clear Ravenclaw. The Hat had a hard time with Scorpius, because it was pushing for Hufflepuff, and though House prejudices had relaxed substantially since the war, he obstinately had _not_ wanted to be seen as the sensitive, thoughtful type. Besides that, he and Al had declared themselves brothers the moment they had met, and had been thick as thieves ever since. Scorpius had known even before Albus was Sorted that he would be in Ravenclaw, so naturally he pushed for the same, and after a mental battle that lasted over four minutes, the Hat finally relented. Ron and Hermione’s Rosie, who was the last to be Sorted that year, was also put in Ravenclaw, as her influence from Hermione was undeniable. Hugo was an easy Hufflepuff.

Though Scorpius’ Sorting had been long, Lily’s had been even longer, taking over five minutes and making her one of the rare Hatstalls. Being the youngest, she was the child of Harry who’d had Draco’s influence in her life for the longest. She was quick to make sarcastic comments, and she knew exactly what she wanted in life. Despite that, she was also close to her Mum, and had inherited her cunning charm and fiery temper. The Hat apparently hadn’t known what to do with her. Finally, with careful precision, the Hat announced Slytherin, and she had ended up fitting there perfectly.

Draco sat up, yawning. “I think I’ll go to bed now,” he said sleepily. Harry eyed him suspiciously. He never went to bed this early. Was he trying to avoid him?

Trying to convince himself that Draco’s schedule must still be askew from the stakeout, Harry nodded. “Er… Okay. I’m not tired yet, I’ll probably just tidy up before I go to sleep.”

Draco smiled at him, the soft smile that was reserved for Harry and only Harry, and gave him a long, close-mouthed kiss. “Good night, Harry.”

“G’night.”

VI

_Saturday, February 10 th, 2024_

Harry, darling,

Have the Nargles been pestering you again? They still seem to like you, after all this time. Ooh, maybe they’re trying to remind you of something! You should get a Remembrall, like the one Neville used to have!

Ginny said she wanted to have the party on the 16th. I think I’m going to make it looove themed. Ginny thought that would be insensitive to the people who aren’t in a relationship in our group right now, but she’s wrong—we all love each other, right? So I think it should be fair game as a party theme!

Rolf says hello. I think he’s really just trying to ogle my breasts, since I haven’t put clothes on for the morning yet. Men are so funny, aren’t they? I will see you next weekend!

Love, Luna

P.S. You should chop up some kale and chicken liver and smear it on your upper lip and around your ears before you go to bed. It helps with the Nargles.

-X-

Wrinkling his nose at Luna’s suggestion and trying pointedly to _not_ think about her sans clothes, Harry threw the letter down with the others on the table. Realizing that he now had far too many letters there, and that Draco would probably get fussy about him leaving them around, he scooped them up and took them upstairs.

Draco was working on the weekend, again. Sure, the cases were a bit more exciting than the ones he and Ron usually took, but it was still a lot of overtime, and Harry missed having him around. He worked late on the weekdays and worked almost all weekend—the times they had been alone together recently had occurred mostly when they were both sleeping.

He sneezed several times as he reached for a box on the very top of the bookshelf in his bedroom. Cursing himself for forgetting to dust again, his fingertips finally made contact with the box, and he pulled it down and enlarged it to its full size.

He placed it carefully on the bed. It was quite a large box, though it wasn’t heavy, as the only thing it contained was a myriad of papers. His letters. He wasn’t sure when he had started collecting them, but it probably had something to do with Draco, he realized in retrospect.

Looking through the organizational tabs, he deposited each of his letters into piles of varying size. Albus’ pile was by far the largest in the box—it was only a matter of time before he would need a separate box for Albus alone.

Finished with his task, he re-lidded the box, moving to put it on the shelf again. He would have done it, too, if it weren’t for the dust—all it took was one sneeze, and he had dropped the box. It hit a lower shelf and bounced, letters flying out. Harry thought for only a moment about reorganizing it by hand before groaning and resorting to spelling them into place. He only hoped that they’d end up in their designated piles. Making sure not to breathe in too deeply, he set the box back on the shelf, turning to leave the room.

Something rustled, and he paused. Damn, he had probably missed one. He peered around the room, following his ear to the noise. It took him a minute to spot it—it had floated under the bookcase, and proceeded to get itself caught between the wooden slats when he had cast the organizational charm.

“There you are, little bugger,” he muttered, pulling the long parchment free and smoothing it out as he flipped it over to the quilled side.

His heart gave an involuntary lurch. Of course it would be this one. His first letter from Draco, the one that led to their courtship and eventual marriage. The letter that was covered in crease-marks from when he used to carry it around in his pocket, the letter that started it all—or at least, continued it. There weren’t many beginnings and endings where their past was concerned.

Despite having long ago memorized it, at a time when he was much younger and much more of a romantic, his eyes drifted over the words once again.

_Potter,_ it read,

_Do me a favor and make sure you’re alone when you read this? I mean it. I’ve charmed the parchment so it won’t show you the rest of the letter until you’re completely alone._

_And no, don’t you dare throw it away._

_I’m waiting._

_Finally. What took you so long?_

_Okay, Potter. You might want to sit down. I know that writing things like this is impolite, not to mention pretty fucking cowardly, but I don’t think that I’d be able to say them to your face, so here goes._

_I think I’m in love with you._

_There, I said it. Prat. Sorry, I had to insult you to even the balance. It just didn’t feel right not to._

_Now, I know that you probably don’t care. You’ve just been divorced, and I wouldn’t blame you if you crumpled this letter up and Incendio’d it (but don’t—I’m not finished yet). You don’t care, so I’m writing this for my sake, if nothing else._

_I honestly don’t know what to do about this. Did you know, I’ve never been in love before? I’m not even actually sure if that’s what this is. Sure, I’ve fancied people before, and Merlin knows I’ve had loads of sex (otherwise I wouldn’t have a five year old son toddling around). Astoria was a wonderful wife, for the brief time we were married, but I didn’t feel for her anything near how I feel now, for you._

_Isn’t that my luck, though? After 30 years of living in this world, I end up being a ponce who’s in love with his bloody rival from Hogwarts. (And I hope that you don’t fuck up my Auror partnership because of this, by the way, because as much as I make fun of Weasley, he’s a bloody good partner.)_

_It probably started when everyone became friends. When Houses started not mattering, and Hermione and Pansy became the fearsome duo. When Weasley and I started working together as friends instead of just as partners. I was around you more and more often in circumstances where we weren’t shouting or yelling hexes. You’re nice to everyone. Even me, nowadays, though I suspect that’ll change now. You try so hard to get people to like you, even though I’m sure you don’t even know you’re doing it. Kindness just comes naturally to you, and you never expect anything back. You didn’t even mind that Ginny was rarely around—you just took care of the kids and smiled and tried your damn best to make everyone’s day. I admire that. It’s not to say you don’t have faults, because you do, but they’ve become more and more insignificant to me as the years have gone by._

_I wasn’t going to tell you, ever. I wasn’t going to tell you until I saw you at the party. Yes, I know that there were other parties during which we were both in attendance. I always tried to stay away from you, to avoid fighting as much as to avoid having unnecessary emotions ruin my night. But this time was different. All of our friends were chatting and drinking, but you were sad, off in the corner by yourself with that bottle of firewhisky. Obviously, it was because of the divorce, but I hadn’t seen you looking so fucked up since we were in school. And then, before I knew it, I was sitting beside you, and we were drinking, and talking, and then we were kissing._

_I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I knew I was in love with you, knew that if I so much as talked to you, I wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore, but I did it anyway. I kissed you. And now you’re disgusted with me, aren’t you? I’m a bloody poof, and I kissed you, right in the same room as all of our friends (I don’t think anyone was looking, just so you know). I saw it in your eyes, after we had finished snogging and everything went pear-shaped, when you realized what we had done. You were horrified._

_I figured you’d want some sort of explanation, so there it is._

_You can skip the next paragraph, because I might as well say this shite while it’s all out in the open, anyway. Actually, please skip this next part, because I’m about to get very sappy and it’s going to be extremely embarrassing if I find out you read it later. Not that you’re going to want to talk to me again, after the party, but still._

_I really fucking love you, Harry Potter. And has anyone ever told you how bloody attractive you are? Your eyes are too fucking green. They pulled me in that night, and they wouldn’t let me go. I wanted to keep kissing you forever. I wanted to do other things, too, things that you don’t want to read, but hopefully you’re not reading this bit anyway. You probably don’t remember this, because we were both drunk off of our arses (I remember, because it’s been haunting me ever since), but you put your hand on my cock. No, you weren’t touching it directly—it was over my pants. But your hand was under my robes, and I wanted you, so, so badly. I didn’t want to take advantage of you, though. Even though you said you wanted me, I’m sure you didn’t, and even if you did, you were drunk. I had to settle for kissing the living daylights out of you. Your kisses made my blood boil; your lips were so soft, and I couldn’t get enough. I wish we had never stopped, that we had just kept kissing until we were both sober and you could pretend you actually wanted me and I would have let you fuck me. I’ve never bottomed before, but I bet you haven’t either, and I would have let you top, since I’ve at least been with a man before. I wish you were jealous of that. I wish a lot of things—mostly I wish that you loved me back. That you would come to me, completely sober, and kiss me just because you wanted to. That we could live our lives together. That we could raise our children together. I want it all, Potter, and it bloody hurts to know that it’ll never happen. But that’s okay. I don’t expect you to love me back. I just wish you did. I love you so much. Fuck._

_You can resume reading here. I’m done now. Did you read that? I hope you didn’t, but I bet you did. That’s okay, too. I can’t even get angry at you for more than about five minutes anymore. Pah, I’m pretty pathetic, aren’t I?_

_I should probably stop writing now, so I can stop myself from saying more things that should be left unsaid. Don’t feel like you have to respond._

_~~Sincerely, Dra~~ _

_Oh fuck, who am I kidding._

_Love, Draco_

Harry swallowed, sudden emotions that he hadn’t felt for many years suddenly coming back to the surface. He remembered how the letter had made him feel, when he first read it—a mix of happy and horny and loved and sad, sad because Draco hadn’t thought that Harry had wanted him, even though he sort of had. And he hadn’t made a decision on what to do that point, because he hadn’t known if that snog was a result of drunkenness or something further. The letter had cleared all of that away. He had remembered palming Draco’s crotch, had remembered how much he had wanted him, but then Draco had stopped kissing him. The look of horror that Draco had mentioned was simply because Harry had assumed that Draco was disgusted with _him_ , not the other way around.

And so Harry had reread the letter. And reread it again. And when he reread it the fifth time, he realized that he could actually do something about it, so he shoved it into his pocket and Floo-called Draco’s house.

Draco had answered immediately, despite it being one o’clock in the morning—Harry surmised later that he simply had not been able to sleep.

“Harry? Wha…?” he had said. Harry remembered it perfectly, because that was the first time he had ever called him Harry.

“Can I come through?” he had asked.

“Uh, sure,” Draco had said, and his immediate agreement was a sign of just how tired and vulnerable he had been in the moment.

Harry went through. He had realized belatedly that he was still holding the letter, and Draco went very pale. Harry swallowed, putting it in his pocket.

“What do you want?” Draco had said, defensive walls coming up.

Then, Harry had realized he had no idea what to say. The only things he had been able to think about were the letter in his pocket and how beautiful Draco had looked in the light from the fire, wearing loose pajamas and slippers. So, instead of talking, he’d kissed him instead.

Neither of them had said a word for a very long time.

Harry looked around at the bedroom, at Draco’s neat hamper and his own socks scattered around the floor, at the bed where Draco had not tried to initiate sex with him for over a month, and looked back at the letter. He was hard, undeniably—recalling that night always had that effect on him. Resolving to wank in the shower later, he sighed, then considered the letter. He could put it back, but… Without really knowing why, he folded it carefully and put it in his shirt pocket.

He glanced at the clock. Damn, he was late for work. Blaise never minded, but still, as a matter of principle, he liked to be on time, especially as he went to work later than most other people anyway. Brushing a bit of dust off of his arm from the bookcase, he made his way downstairs and out the door.

VII

_Wednesday, February 14 th, 2024_

Dad,

Albus said I should owl you. Well, he always says that, but I figured I might as well do it, since we’ve gotten out of classes early today to get ready for the ball. I don’t need _that_ much time to get ready, though Helen does. I don’t really understand it, but I don’t mind, either—she always looks really pretty when she takes forever getting ready.

Albus is really excited. I’m sure he told you that he finally asked Elodie to go with him. I’ve been badgering him to go after her for ages, but Rose was the one that finally convinced him—she said that she thought that Winston Herman was going to ask Elodie instead, and he freaked out, cuz he hates him. At least he asked her, though. They’ve been circling around each other for ages. He’ll let you know what happens at the Ball, I’m sure.

I should go, Albus and Rose want me to grab a bite with them before we start getting ready. Thank goodness we don’t have any exams tomorrow—I know Tinsley was thinking of giving one out in History of Magic, but he changed his mind at the last moment.

Love, Scorpius

-X-

That was right. It was Valentine’s Day. Draco had been even less talkative than before in the past couple of days, coming home after eleven and going straight to bed. Maybe he was just trying to plan a surprise present for Harry, and wanted to keep it a secret until it was ready.

He pulled the letter out of his pocket absent-mindedly. He had taken to carrying it around again recently, and reading it whenever he felt his doubts about their relationship start creeping up on him. He read it over again. Valentine’s Day. That must be it.

Wait, was Harry supposed to get him a present, too? What did he usually get him for Valentine’s Day? No matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn’t seem to remember.

Nonetheless, when the time for his lunch break came around, he scurried out the door, leaving Blaise mid-sentence with a confused look on his face. He spent the whole hour looking for something that looked even remotely triggered a memory as to what he had gotten him last year.

Walking into the candy shop, he blinked rapidly, trying to allow is eyes to adjust in the face of innumerable bright, pink signs and cards and candies. Draco liked chocolates, right? He remembered that from their Hogwarts days. Wandering around the bright, shiny store, he shook his head slightly. This didn’t feel right. For some reason, he had the feeling that he had never gotten Draco a Valentine’s Day present before. So why did he feel like there had been present giving around this time anyway, or something similar?

Groaning at his own faulty memory, he picked up a too-bright heart-shaped box of chocolates and paid for them, trudging back to work.

-X-

Draco didn’t come home that night until after midnight. Harry was awoken by the sound of the blond running up the stairs.

“Harry! Wake up! We got it!” Draco said at just barely less than a shout.

“Got what?” Harry muttered, irritable and only half-awake.

“The promotion! I got promoted, Harry!” Draco was practically squealing with glee. Harry looked at him sleepily, his happiness warring with his disappointment that Draco was home late _again_. He hadn’t even owled Harry to tell him. And besides that, his Valentine’s Day hypothesis had been wrong.

“That’s… that’s great, Draco,” he mumbled. Draco’s expression slowly wilted.

“Aren’t you happy for me?” he asked forlornly.

“Yeah, of course I am. Just… you haven’t been home a lot recently. And stuff.”

“And stuff? Like what stuff?” Draco was getting angry, now, Harry could tell. Unfortunately, he himself wasn’t quite awake enough yet to say anything constructive.

“Er, well… I just feel like we haven’t really talked much lately, y’know? And we haven’t really had sex either. It—“

“So you’re thinking about your fucking libido, rather than about being happy for me? You know how much this meant to me, Harry! Why else do you think I would be at the office all the time? This wasn’t about you!” he exploded, fuming.

“Yeah, well maybe it should have been!” Harry yelled back. “All we’ve done lately is sit around and watch telly. You’re always at work, you’ve barely talked to me, and we haven’t slept together for what feels like months! It’s starting to feel like how it felt with…” The pieces fell into place—why he had been upset lately, why he cared so much—and he felt a stinging pain in his throat. “…how it felt with Ginny.”

Draco looked shattered. He opened his mouth, then closed it, shoulders trembling slightly. Harry couldn’t believe what he had just said. He could very well have just fucked up their entire relationship. They were both silent for a moment.

“Harry… Harry, no…” Draco was shaking his head slowly. He looked like he might be about to cry.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Draco, I didn’t mean it,” Harry choked out, already feeling miserable from guilt.

“No, you did mean it, and I’m an arse,” Draco lowered his head, sitting on the edge of the bed on the side opposite from Harry. “You’re… you’re right. I thought if I could just get that bloody promotion, everything would be better. I wasn’t thinking about anything else.” His shoulders shook. Harry was struck with an immediate need to hold him, and be held. He shoved the covers off, scrambling to sit beside Draco and wrap his arms around him.

“I was being an arse, too,” Harry mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You were not!” Draco replied urgently. “You were just being Harry. You were even trying to convince yourself that you weren’t upset, I could tell. I was just being stupid, because I thought that once I got the promotion, it would be okay. But it’s not, because you’re mad at me, and I don’t know what I would do with myself if you… if we…”

Harry didn’t want to know what was at the end of that sentence. So he did what he usually did when he didn’t know what to say to Draco, and kissed him instead.

Draco froze at first, and then all at once melted into him, twisting his lips sweetly against Harry’s. He could taste the coffee on Draco’s breath. His tongue wound its way between Draco’s open lips, and he felt, rather than heard, his husband’s sudden intake of breath. The kiss became more urgent; Draco curled his fingers in Harry’s hair with one hand and slid his arm around to stroke his back with the other.

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled against his mouth.

“Me, too,” Draco mumbled back, then kissed him some more.

Eventually, they parted to breathe. Draco’s mouth was parted into the perfect little ‘o’ it made when he was aroused.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, finding Draco’s fingers with his own and squeezing them tightly.

“Of course we are, Harry. We haven’t been married for ten years to wreck our relationship with some silly spat like this,” Draco squeezed back.

“Has it really been ten years?” Harry wondered. Draco got an odd look in his eye.

“Almost... Anyway, we should go to bed,” he said suddenly. Harry blinked, confused.

“But… wait…”

“Hmm?” Draco was already shucking some of his clothes off and sliding under the covers.

“I… I want you,” Harry admitted. He crawled back onto his side of the bed, and situated himself in Draco’s waiting arms.

“Do you trust me?” Draco asked, a small smile on his face.

Harry nodded.

“Can you wait until tomorrow?”

Harry nodded again, albeit more slowly this time. “I guess so…”

Draco kissed him slowly, softly. “You won’t regret it, I promise,” he whispered, then closed his eyes and almost immediately fell asleep. Harry lay awake for a bit longer, wondering what on earth Draco had meant, before finally succumbing to the Sandman as well.

VIII

_Thursday, February 15 th, 2024_

Dad,

The Ball was brilliant! It wasn’t all pink and frilly like I thought it would be, it was actually all done up in ice statues and frost! It was almost like the Yule Ball, except more hearts. And Elodie said she liked me, and that she wanted to go steady! I have a girlfriend now!

Oh, Scorp said he had fun too. He said he and Helen also caught Rose making out with Abe in the back bushes, so now we have something to tease her about if she tries to nag at Scorp for it again. And Lily actually went with a girl! Her name’s Eliza, she’s in Lils’ year, and she’s really pretty and nice. I think you’ll like her. Lils looked so happy, I don’t think I’ve seen her like that since she made her first friends in Slytherin. Hugo found a girl to go with last minute—apparently she had a huge crush on him this whole year and he didn’t even know!

Anyway, I’ve got to go to classes now. It’s annoying that we have to go the day after a Ball, but whatever.

Love you, Dad! Al

-X-

“Have you packed yet?” Draco’s voice drafted up from the bottom of the stairwell.

“I was reading Al’s letter!” Harry protested, setting it down on his nightstand and picking up the little knapsack that Draco had given him to put a couple changes of clothes in. “It would help if you would tell me where we were going, you know,” he grumbled under his breath. It was only eight in the morning, and Draco had woken him up two hours earlier with a mischievous grin, telling him to get dressed and ready.

He zipped the bag, getting ready to walk out the door when he saw the box of chocolates on top of the bookshelf where he had hidden it. On impulse, he grabbed it, stuffing it in his bag before hurrying down to meet Draco.

“You done?” Draco asked, a bit impatiently. Harry rolled his eyes.

“What does it look like?” he retorted. Draco brightened.

“Good, you are done. Here, hold on,” he extended a leftover bottle cap. It was all the warning Harry got before he touched it and the Portkey spun into motion. After a lifetime of the hooked-navel sensation, he was dropped, sprawling on the ground.

“Hey—you could have warned me,” he spluttered, spitting sand out of his mouth.

Wait, sand? Where were they? He brushed the sand off of his glasses as he stood.

“Look, Harry,” Draco murmured.

Harry did, and saw the most beautiful blue ocean he had ever seen, with gently lapping waves and not another person in sight.

“Whoa…” he breathed. “Where are we? It’s warm here,” he asked Draco, who was also smiling out at the water.

“Our very own tropical getaway,” Draco smirked, and it was the smirk that he used when he thought he had a very good chance of getting laid. Harry worked hard to quell his libido for the moment. So, Draco had given him a Valentine’s Day present after all.

Oh! The chocolates! He bent down, rummaging around in his knapsack and grabbing the box.

“Er… I got you these,” he said, holding them out toward Draco, who eyed them, then burst out laughing.

“Why thank you, Harry, though I can’t say that we usually get each other anything for Valentine’s Day,” he accepted them, clearly amused.

“What? What do you mean? I thought I gave you something last year…” Harry spoke confusedly, brow creased. Draco started laughing again.

“I knew you would never remember...” he chortled. “Though I wondered if you would figure it out… What’s today’s date, Harry?” he asked.

“It’s… Valentine’s Day is the 13th? No, 14th of February. So today’s the 15th… Oh, fuck.” His mouth fell open. How could he have forgotten? “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t remember! I don’t know why, I usually remember,” he swore.

Draco’s grin grew even wider, and he stepped closer, wrapping Harry in his arms. “Harry, you never remember our anniversary,” he chuckled.

Harry shook his head. “That’s why you were acting weird last night. Bloody “almost ten years,”” he mimicked Draco, thinking of all the possible signs he had missed. Luna had said he was forgetting something, too, and Luna was always an uncanny amount of correct about these things. “Hey,” he realized, “I remembered last year!” Yes, now he remembered—he had taken Draco out on a date to his favorite restaurant, and then they had made love under the stars with numerous warming and cushioning charms surrounding them.

“I had Pansy put it on her calendar so Hermione would bring it up,” Draco smirked again, a twinkle in his eye.

“Pah… then, the year before!” he protested again. They had gone to an opera that had been one of Narcissa’s favorites before she passed away.

“I mentioned it to Albus. He told you two weeks beforehand.” Draco again rebutted.

Harry was dumbfounded. Was his memory really that bad? Then, his thoughts shifted to a different question. “Why didn’t you remind me this year?” he asked, his brow again creasing.

Draco kissed his mouth, then his cheek, his nose, his forehead, humming happily. “Because. You always do something for me that you know I’ll love. And I wanted to do something for you,” he murmured into his skin.

“…Oh.” Harry’s eyes widened. He flushed slightly, as emotions came washing down over him like the nearby waves on the shore.

Draco kissed him on the lips again, longer this time, before stepping back a little, averting his eyes. “I love you, Harry. I might not say it that often, but you should never forget it.” He shifted his weight, looking tentatively at Harry.

Harry smiled at him, feeling a bit dizzy from the uncontrollable pounding of his heart. “I love you too, Draco.” The words slipped from his mouth and into the air easily, comfortingly.

Draco grinned again. “What do you want to do? I was thinking we could swim, or eat, or, y’know, lay about in bed all day…” He trailed off, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry laughed. “I think I like the sound of that last one,” he confessed, lowering his voice into its huskier range entirely on purpose.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” Draco said, and kissed him again. Harry was suddenly very snug in Draco’s arms, and he felt the twist of Apparition around him before he could even open his eyes again. When he did, he spied a bed, and immediately pushed Draco toward it.

“Mmph—easy,” Draco murmured, as Harry pushed him down, climbing on top of him in between lingering kisses. “I’m not… as young as I used to be…”

Harry relented slightly, but only to start tugging at various articles of clothing. “Clothes… off…” he mumbled, already struggling with buttons and zippers. He slid Draco’s shirt off, moving down his body, kissing and nipping at his neck and chest and belly. He had pulled Draco’s trousers and pants away and was about to lower his mouth to his leaking cock when the blond stopped him.

“Not today, Harry,” he smirked again, and then flipped them over. Harry felt weightless for a moment as Draco suddenly switched their positions. “I want to make you feel good this time,” he murmured. He started unbuttoning Harry’s shirt, taking a dreadfully long time. He was in the process of extricating it from his body when they both heard a rustling noise coming from the shirt pocket. “What’s this?” he asked, pulling out a familiar piece of parchment.

“No, don’t—!” Harry flushed and grabbed for the letter, but Draco had already snatched it out of his reach. He unfolded it, looking over the first few lines before looking back at Harry, a surprised expression on his face.

“This… Harry, you still carry this around?” he asked, a small, incredulous smile growing on his face.

“Just… just lately, not all the time… It’s nothing, really, why are you looking at me like that?”

Draco swallowed, carefully setting the letter on the bedside table before drawing Harry in for a long, slow kiss.

“I love you so much, Harry Potter,” he murmured, voice taut with emotion, and Harry’s hips gave an involuntary jerk.

“I love you too, Draco.” He felt like he was floating on a cloud, euphoria flowing through his body.

Draco gave him another kiss, then grinned playfully. He grabbed his wand, Vanishing Harry’s clothes (“Hey!” “I didn’t like that shirt on you anyway, now come here, you dolt,”) and then Harry was the one being licked and sucked at. Draco grinned up at him, both of them somewhat breathless, and then took Harry’s erection straight down into his throat.

“Fuck… bloody fuck!” Harry exclaimed, immediately gasping for air. It had been a while since Draco had given him a blowjob, and he had almost forgotten how good it felt. His fingers wound through blond, silky locks, not pushing, simply holding on for the ride.

He was so lost in the wet and heat and friction of Draco’s mouth that he barely noticed when Draco pushed his legs up and out of the way. It wasn’t until Draco pulled his mouth off of him with a wet pop that he looked down.

“Why’d you st… oh fuck!” his body jerked in reaction to Draco’s tongue, which was now circling his arsehole. He could hear Draco chuckling slightly as he took another long, slow lick up Harry’s cleft. Harry looked down, then squeezed his eyes tightly shut, for fear that the sight alone would get him entirely too close. It was on a rare occasion that Draco did this—he had always been a little more squeamish than Harry was, so Draco usually saved rimming for Harry’s birthday. That he would receive it so unexpectedly had him feeling pleasure beyond words—and indeed, he was reduced to moaning and half-hearted attempts at saying Draco’s name.

“Fucking hot…” he heard Draco murmur before he felt the blond’s tongue start to slowly press inside of him, and he stopped thinking entirely. 

Draco took his time, licking slowly, opening him up more with every push. Harry tried not to tense against the intrusion, or even worse, to come prematurely. He wanted this to last. Finally, Draco’s tongue reached as far as it could go, and he began to rhythmically slide it in and out, nose brushing Harry’s bollocks. Harry’s hands fisted into the covers, and he whimpered, almost completely undone.

Draco pulled his tongue out, only to replace it with a charm-slicked finger. He found Harry’s prostate easily, and didn’t relent when pressing against it, adding another finger almost as soon as he added the first one. Harry was almost senseless with pleasure, and so he didn’t notice when Draco cast another lubrication charm and shifted positions, reaching below his own cock to open himself up simultaneously. Nor did he notice when Draco slicked up a hand and smoothed slowly it over Harry’s cock—all he felt was an intensification of pleasure.

He did, however, notice when Draco pulled his fingers out, and he pulled his legs up higher, expecting to be penetrated by something larger, thicker. But Draco batted his hands away, pulling his legs down and climbing on top of him. Harry blinked confusedly, and Draco winked, moving to sink himself slowly down onto Harry’s cock.

Harry’s eyes widened, and he almost came immediately, just from the immediate and all-consuming tightness that was Draco. He squeezed his eyes shut, then slowly reopened them. Merlin, Draco was gorgeous, breathing deeply through his nose as he adjusted to having Harry inside him. He slid his hands up to brace them on Harry’s shoulders, smiled that smile that he saved only for him, and _moved._

Harry complied with his rhythm quickly, breath catching on every other thrust. They had done this hundreds of times; they knew exactly how irrevocably make one another come undone. He slipped his hand around Draco’s cock, stroking it in rhythm with their hips, and it was only a short time before Draco began moaning incessantly.

“Close, close… Oh, Harry, I love you, Harry,” Draco chanted, sweat gleaming on his chest from exertion.

“Me too… Oh, fuck, come on, come for me, baby, Draco,” Harry moaned. Draco began tightening around him, and that was all it took for his orgasm hit. He gave a strangled shout, hand becoming slick with Draco’s semen as his hips bucked and strained in ecstasy.

Draco rested above him for only a moment before pulling off of Harry, slumping beside him and breathing hard. Harry curled beside him, kissing his neck and shuddering as a belated spasm spread through him. They lay there for several moments.

“Up for another round?” Draco asked eventually, even though his breathing wasn’t even back to normal yet.

“Yeah, sure, in a mo’,” Harry responded, nipping his collarbone playfully.

“What, getting old, Potter?” Draco joked, gasping at a particularly hard nip.

“Well, I have been married for ten years, or so my husband tells me,” Harry said softly, ceasing his nipping for a moment and looking up at him. Draco smiled, pulling Harry closer, intertwining their hands so that their wedding bands touched.

“Sounds like a wonderful ten years,” he mused, and Harry couldn’t help but agree.

IX

_Friday, February 16 th, 2024_

Harry,

7:00 tonight at Luna and Rolf’s! Remind everyone just in case, and don’t forget!

Love, Ginny

-X-

Harry grinned, pleasantly inebriated by Draco’s side and watching Blaise finally, finally make a move on Ginny. They had been watching each other from afar for longer than Albus had fancied Elodie, for Merlin’s sake. He turned his head slightly as they started kissing—he wasn’t _that_ nosy, though he was incredibly happy for the both of them.

Luna had indeed went with a “love” theme, and since everyone there was now part of a couple, Harry didn’t see a problem with it. Hearts and flowers were everywhere, along with a few scattered bathrobed scarecrows, which he wasn’t going to ask about. Pansy had brought her latest fling, whom she was now ignoring in favor of discussing coworkers with Hermione. Ron was with George, sniggering suspiciously near the punch (which Harry made a mental note _not_ to drink). Neville and Hannah were having a soft discussion with Luna, and Rolf was in the kitchen, pulling heart-shaped biscuits out of the oven.

“Everyone’s so happy,” he said grinning lazily. Draco giggled—something he did only when drunk, and which he would steadfastly deny later—and put his hand on Harry’s face.

“You look nice in glasses, Harry, did you know?” he waggled his eyebrows, looking somewhere that was definitely _not_ Harry’s glasses.

“Er, sure, Draco,” Harry laughed. He shifted closer to Draco, hearing the letter shift in his pocket. Maybe it was time for him to put it back in the box—after all, there would be many more letters written in the coming years. Even after they had gotten married, they still wrote letters every now and then, though it had dropped off in recent years. Harry thought that it was time to pick up the tradition again.

A particularly raucous bought of laughter came from where Ron and George were sitting, as Rolf, newly sprouting a giant rose out of his head, frowned down at his punch cup. Harry grinned.

X

_Saturday, February 17 th, 2024_

Draco,

Do you remember what we did last night? You were so sexy, hands all over me in the shower like that. I love it when we’ve just gotten clean, and you decide to make me all dirty again right afterwards. When you threw me on the bed and pushed inside me, I swear—

“Potter! What is the meaning of this?!” Draco exclaimed, stomping up the stairs and twisting through the corridor into the bedroom, letter in hand. Harry tried his best to keep a straight face, but soon was lost in a sea of snickering.

“I… oh, Merlin… I had a lot of fun last night… And I just thought—I thought I’d letter you know,” he said, shaking with laughter.

Draco gave him a pointed glare. “That was awful. Shut up, Harry,” he grumbled. He stalked toward him, a predatory smirk growing on his face.

“Fine, I think I will,” Harry grinned as their bodies pressed together, wanting evident in the touch of their hips.

Draco kissed him. The letter fell to the floor.


End file.
